Last Sunday was my boyfriend Doug's inaugural ride on his new road bike. I think he thinks that I'm sort of ridiculous for making him ride the trainer for 15 minutes to learn how to get in and out of his pedals...he picked it up right away. Apparently some people don't need two hours on a high school track and countless inner thigh bruises before becoming comfortable in clipless pedals. I'd hate him if he weren't so strangely attractive in bike shorts.
Our ride was the 25 mile option out at Sauvie Island. We woke up to steady winds on the east side and I was expecting the worst out at Sauvie. But lo and behold, we ended up with a bright sunny day and NO headwinds. It was amazing. About fifteen people showed up to ride. There were bald eagles roosting out by the beaches and we could see Mt. Ranier and Mt. Adams in the distance.
After the ride, a bunch of us ended up at the Lucky Lab for a few hours. It ended up being one of those perfect beer commercial sorts of days. The type of day I would long for when I was 18 and think, "that must be what being an adult is all about-hanging out with grown men in lycra and listening to stories about pooping one's pants."
The Hornet is giving me trouble again. Last week I lived and learned the rule "if it ain't movin, don't force it." Turns out you can break your shifters by ignoring that rule. And guess what? New shifters are not cheap. And then there is always the possibility that those shifters won't quite be adjusted correctly and you'll spend the weekend grinding up hills because you can't shift into your climbing gears and have too much damn ego to stop and head back down the hill. Then you'll get to spend Monday wearing ice packs velcroed to your knees while trying not to lose too much respect from your colleagues, who are frequently wondering why they hired an associate that wears icebag knee pads and always looks like she needs to brush her hair.
Nine days in and I had my first truly miserable training workout of the year today. Jen and I swam about 2400 meters today, including 20 75-meter repeats. The whole time there were two large gnomes hanging onto my ankles. Have you ever tried to swim while dragging gnomes? Not so fun. Gnomes drink a lot of beer and wear a lot of loose fitting wool clothing...serious drag.
Off to a Portland Triathlon Cub meeting....
Happy gnome hunting-